


Rocky Mountain Retreat

by AdorableDisaster



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Porn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Boys Kissing, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Consent is Sexy, Dean Loves Pie, Denial of Feelings, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Consent, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Feelings, First Kiss, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Hotel Sex, Lots of dialogue, Love Confessions, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, My First Destiel Fanfic, My First Work in This Fandom, Non-Penetrative Sex, Not abandoned just neglected, POV Third Person Omniscient, Prayer, Shower Sex, Stream of Consciousness, Swearing, Timeline unclear - sometime in season 7?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-22 16:34:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3735931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdorableDisaster/pseuds/AdorableDisaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's working a case and needs a cover.  He and Cas pretend to be a couple for the weekend.  Pretend. Yea, that's the word.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first SPN Fanfic... Please leave comments, but be gentle! <3
> 
> *edit* Holy crap - over 1000 views! Thanks, everyone! Please feel free to leave suggestions/ideas/prompts in the comments. <3
> 
> *second edit* Thank you for all the comments and kudos. You feed my shipper's soul!   
> I did want to mention that there's a bit of potential kink-shaming, and since both characters are cis, that's their reference point. So, basically, I'm trying to stay true to my interpretation of the characters, and their opinions do not reflect my own. Just wanted to point that out, so you know I'm aware of those points, and they are intentional, but not without IRL consideration, if that makes sense. Thanks for reading!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Made some minor edits. Thanks for the comments and kudos! <3

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”

Dean set down his beer on the cheap particleboard of the table. Sam looked over the top of his laptop, knowing his brother was not exactly angry. Not just yet. He's just expressive.

“Yea, Dean. That seems to be our best lead.”

“A retreat? A gay retreat?” He put a little too much emphasis on the “g” word. 

“Yea, well there’s no rule that says that monsters have to be straight.” Sam shrugged and looked back at the screen. The Rocky Mountain Queers and Allies were hosting their annual fall retreat, and there were only a few spots left. 

Dean took a long draw from his beer. He’d hunted in a lot of places, been in a lot of compromising situations, but this… The bottle tipped away from his lips, and his eyes crossed on the phallic shape in front of his face. He gulped the mouthful of fizzy lager and put the bottle down again. He gave it a little push for good measure. Sam’s brow furrowed for a moment, but he didn’t give it too much though. He knew his overly macho brother wasn’t going to love his next suggestion.

“So, we’ve got to go.”

“We?” Dean’s eyebrow shot up.

“Well, someone has to. He’s taken out a half-dozen guys out there. The police are calling it some kind of hate crime spree, but they have no theories yet about the manner of killing.”

“Yea, well, that’s probably for the better.” Dean stood and groaned. The killings were gruesome, to be sure, but nothing they hadn’t seen before. It was probably just another fang with a fetish. It wasn’t unheard of for a vamp to be selective about his or her meals. 

Still, the thing was evasive enough that they’d been tracking it for a few days, and the death toll had only risen. 

“Fine…” Dean ran a hand over his face. He stood up and took his empty beer bottle to the kitchenette. “We’ll book a couple rooms and…”

“Uh oh.” Sam’s brow furrowed again. 

“Uh oh?” Dean paused. “What’s uh oh?” 

“It’s um…”

“If you tell me it’s a clothing optional thing I will throw that computer out the window.”

“No! Well, only after 10pm.”

“What the fu…?”

“It’s couples only.”

“What now?”

“It’s couples only.”

“This is not getting better, Sammy.” Dean watched his not-so-little brother shrug.

“I don’t know what to tell you Dean. It says right here on the website.” He swung the laptop around so the elder Winchester could read the description. Dean’s stepped toward the Formica table. His eyes scanned the page, complete with itinerary and list of local attractions including the nearest salons and community theaters. 

“Son of a bitch.” 

Sam took his computer back. 

“So, I guess we need to book a room…”

“Nope.” Dean shook his head, mouth turned down in an impressive frown. 

“But Dean, we have to catch this guy.”

“Yea, we do. But this family’s fucked up enough as it is without having to pretend you’re my… boyfriend for a weekend.” He shuddered like someone had dropped an ice cube down his shirt. 

“What’s the big deal? People make that mistake all the time when we check into hotels on the road.” Sam leaned back in his chair. He knew his brother could be a little anxious around guy love, but a case was a case and this needed to get done. 

“Yea, but, these rooms all have two beds…” Dean threw back. It was a weak defense and he knew it. It wasn’t that he was homophobic. No, he was fine with anyone getting their groove back in whatever way felt groovy to all parties involved. Hell, more that one guy had turned his head in a bar over the years. He appreciated a good looking person, guy or gal, but he’d never wanted to do much more than appreciate from afar. Well, except for that threesome a few years back, but the girl was super hot and he and the guy didn’t really touch a lot and that doesn’t really count and anyways he wasn’t gay he just liked pretty people and why was Sam staring at him like that?

“Let me see that again.” Dean reached for the laptop and Sam lifted his hands in a non-threatening gesture. Dean glared at his brother for a second before scanning the pages again. There were pictures of the RMQ&A board, and one or two of the faces looked really familiar. “Sam, look at this guy.”

“Changing your tune already, huh?”

“Shut up.” Dean swiveled the screen back towards his bitch of a little brother.

“Shit.” 

“Yea.” The man in the picture, Brad Miller, was a local badge they’d met on another case a while back. He was a good man, a great cop, with an excellent memory, and he’d never buy the brothers as a couple… 

“Well. There’s always Cas.” Sam’s eyes were still on the screen when he spoke. Dean was grateful. His breath caught in his throat. Green eyes blinked a few extra times.

“Cas?” His voice came out strong enough though. Bully for him.

“Yea. He’s close by, and Miller and the other guys here have never seen him, so you can still be Agent Kay. That was the name in that county, right?”

Dean smiled, eyes crinkling. “Yea… the Steppenwolf weekend… Man that werewolf was a bitch.” 

“Yep.” Sam nodded, already clicking the link to “reserve a room”. 

“But Cas?” There was a wiggling feeling in Dean’s stomach. He didn’t have butterflies… he had caterpillars. 

“Well, I could call Garth.” Sam looked up at his brother. Dean’s expression could have killed a demon.

“Okay, no Garth.” The younger man turned back to the computer, covering his mouth as he gave a small cough that was definitely not a laugh.

“Wait a damn minute, why I am I the one going to this ‘retreat’?” Dean demanded. He finally noticed Sam reaching for one of their several credit cards. 

“Because Miller’s partner…” Their eyes met over the top of the computer, and Sam managed to shrug with just his eyebrows “... partner knows me too. I remember the guy from a case out East a few years ago. He’s a badge too, must be in town for the event. I can’t go, Dean - when he and Miller call me a different name, well, I’d rather not have our cover blown at a resort where there are apparently several members of law enforcement enjoying a weekend of…” He read from the glowing webpage, “Judgement-free frivolity”.” 

Sam did his best to keep from laughing, though he had to bite the inside of his lip hard enough to taste blood…

“I hate you.” Dean’s jaw clenched.

“Yea, I know. Call Cas.” 

For a moment, Dean thought he might actually punch his brother. He’d certainly hit him for less. Sam jotted down a long number on a piece of scrap paper. “Here’s your confirmation number. There weren’t a lot of choices left, so I got you the Lumberjack Suite.” 

Yep. It was time. Dean made a fist and drove it into Sam’s arm. 

“Ow! Jerk!” 

“Bitch.” 

 

~~~~


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas is happy to help with the case.

Cas sat in the front seat of the Impala. Dean had left Sam at the motel. Let the idiot figure his own way around town while they were away with the car for the weekend. Who was he kidding? Sam would probably just walk to the library and get out a few fluff books to pass the time. What a dork. 

Cas looked over at the sound of Dean’s snort of derision. His brow furrowed slightly as he tried to process what might have caused the very human noise. 

“It’s nothin’.” Dean answered the unspoken question, barely taking his eyes off the road. Cas nodded once, but continued to look at Dean’s profile as they drove. “What?” He asked finally. 

It took a few seconds for Cas to answer, as it often did. 

“Please remind me what my name is.”

“What?”

“For the case.” 

“Oh, right. Um, Jerry.” They were sticking with the Steppenwolf theme.

“Jerry. That is similar to Jimmy.” Cas’ expression was wistful, and maybe a little melancholy. 

“Um, yea. I guess it is. Is that gonna be okay?” Dean glanced at Cas. The exit was coming up, so he had to pay attention to the road.

“Yes. It should make it easy for me to remember it.” The quiet smile he sometimes wore settled onto his lips.

“Good.” Dean’s brows were knit together. He just couldn’t shake this roiling feeling in the pit of his stomach. It had moved on from caterpillars. Now it was like that ball of snakes he’d seen on the discovery channel. Man, do not fall asleep watching a documentary on snake mating behaviors. That makes for some fucked up dreams.

“Dean?” Cas’ voice snapped Dean out of his headspace. The snakes were still in his stomach though.

“Yea?” The snakes shifted when he looked at Cas. Some flitted up to become something more like butterflies. Some shifted lower to become something more like a problem.

“Is something wrong?” Cas could always tell. Sammy was the only person who knew him better. Well, maybe Bobby was on that list too, but being dead kinda bumped you down a few notches. 

“No, man. Just thinking about the case.”

“The case. Right. So are we married?” 

Dean’s head snapped around so fast he thought he heard something pop.

“What?”

“Are we a married couple, or are we just… dating?” Cas tried the word out, making sure he referenced the right social convention.

“Oh. Um.” Dean turned back to the road. Snakes and wriggling and shit, man. “Dating.” he said firmly. “No rings.” He lifted his left hand and wagged the fingers by way of explanation. 

“Alright.” Cas dipped his chin and turned back to look out the window. It was an overcast day, but the trees were lush with the recent rain. The needles of the pines they passed were a dark green. Much darker than Dean’s eyes. In the right light, Dean eyes were sometimes so pale they were like green tea with honey it it. Soothing and good for you. Cas’ smile deepened as the Impala rolled onto the exit ramp.

Dean’s hands were sweating on the steering wheel. His hands were soaked and his mouth was dry. How did that make sense? Human bodies are so fucking weird. He blinked as the gps barked orders at him. His body was capable of doing so many things at once. His ears heard the directions that the phone announced. His hands turned the wheel. His eyes scanned the damp road ahead of them for hazards. His heart pounded in his chest. His stomach fluttered in his throat. His lungs occasionally forgot to breath. His mind wondered what it would feel like to take Cas’ hand as they drove. His thumb imagined running over a small gold band on Cas’ left hand. His arm envisioned being wrapped around the angel’s shoulders on a chilly day like today. His fingers twitched as they practiced brushing a stray lock of hair behind Cas’ ear. His tongue wet his lips as he puckered just a bit, as though placing a chaste kiss on someone’s lips. His cock stirred, and Dean’s foot slammed down on the brake. 

“Dean!” Cas’ voice was tight.

“Sorry! Sorry. I uh, I thought I saw something on the road.”

“What?”

“Crossing the road. I thought I saw a dog or a deer or somethin…”

“Big horned sheep?”

“What?”

“Big horned sheep.” The angel was panting just a little as his vessel’s heart rate returned to normal. “They are common in this area.”

“Okay.” Dean took a few deep breaths as he started the Impala moving again. “I don’t think that’s what is was, but, um, good to know.”

“Yes.” Cas leaned back, but his eyes were alert now, scanning the sides of the mountain as they drove up to higher elevation. He would be on the look out as well. 

Dean waited until Cas had turned in his seat to look at a particular patch of trees they were passing. He reached down to adjust the crotch of his pants. Everything had returned to its regularly scheduled programming. But what that fuck was that about? Dean wondered. 

He was most definitely not gay. And especially not for Cas. I mean, come on. This was Cas - the angel who’d lied to him, and saved him, and beaten him, and rescued him, and… The snakes were back, and they were pissed. It was going to be a long weekend. 

~~~~


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to get ready for dinner, and then of course, get through dinner...

Dinner was served at 8:00pm on Friday. They’d been here less than 6 hours, and Dean was already crawling out of his skin. 

The room was big, sure. There was one bed. And there was a couch big enough to sleep on. Awesome. And a mini-bar, thank God. 

They were told to dress for dinner, whatever the hell that meant. Dean stepped out of the shower and ran a towel through his hair with a little more aggression than was necessary. He stepped up to the mirror and braced his hands on the sink. The cool porcelain pulled the heat away from his hands. It served to ground him for the moment, and Dean met his own reflection. 

“Alright man. This is just any other case. You have a target, and you have a cover.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It just so happens your cover is Cas…” Dean let go of the sink with a sound that was more like a growl than he cared to admit. He pointed a finger at the face in the mirror. “Just get through tonight, jackass.” He told his reflection. “Watch the room, find the leech, lure him out, take his head off, simple as that.” He ran a hand through his hair again, ‘cause that would help. 

Dean stepped out of the bathroom wearing his suit pants and a snug black t-shirt. Cas was there, of course. He was sitting on the bed, staring at the wall.

“Cas?” This was not unusual, but Dean was still occasionally unnerved by the angel’s behavior. Unnerved and intrigued and enamored and God’s lazy ass damn it we’re not playing this game right now. 

“The grain of this wood is beautiful.” 

“Yea?”

The hotel definitely embraced the “rustic aesthetic”. Most of the building was built like a log cabin, with thick, natural beams and rough cut edges. Dean had to admit he liked it, even if it was a little cliche.

“This tree,” Cas reached out a hand and placed it on the smoothly polished wooden surface. “It was many hundreds of years old when it was felled. It saw creatures that have long since gone extinct. It may have even seen civilizations rise and fall.” His hand caressed the beam like a lover soothing a sore muscle. “Did you know there are trees on this earth that have been alive longer than Christianity has existed?” 

“No… No I didn’t know that.” This wasn’t the first time Dean had been alone with Cas, but it felt like it. He stood in the middle of the room, wet towel in his hands, looking at the ethereal being sitting on the squeaky bed. 

“Trees are incredible things, Dean.”

“Yea, they’re uh, they’re pretty incredible alright.” He stared at the terrycloth, running it over his arm. It was too much to look at Cas sometimes. The wisdom of the ages trapped in the body of a middle class man from suburbia. Nice body that it was, sometimes it just didn’t seem fair. And the innocence. Damn it but Cas could be so innocent. All those millennia watching humanity, and sometimes Dean felt like the angel didn’t know a damn thing about how terrible humans could be. 

“Cas.” Dean looked up then and green eyes met blue. They were so blue. Cas stared at Dean, his expression completely open and unassuming. His hand was still on the beam. “We gotta go.” He turned and threw the towel back into the bathroom. So blue. 

“Of course.” When Dean turned back around Castiel was standing at the foot of the bed. He picked up a tie off of the comforter and slipped it around his neck. He was getting good at tying them himself. The tie was mostly dark green, with bits of navy blue and black worked into the subtle pattern. It was a nice tie. He handed Dean a dark blue shirt. “Will this do?”

“Yea, Cas. That’s perfect.” Dean slipped the thick wool shirt around his shoulders and reveled in the feel of the fabric against his skin. He’d be warm, but it went so well with Cas’ tie that he couldn’t wear anything else he’d brought. 

“Well would you look at us.” Dean buttoned the last button and stood in front of the floor length mirror against the wall. “We’re gonna be the prettiest fake couple at dinner.” He smiled and straightened his collar with just a enough bravado to convince himself that he was ready to go to work. 

“Possibly.” Cas adjusted his tie.

“What’s that?” Dean checked that there were bullets in his gun. He slipped the familiar weapon into the waistband of his pants and fluffed the shirt over his back, making sure the outline of the gun wasn’t visible in the the mirror. He picked up one of his favorite knives and bent over to slip it into the holster strapped to his calf. 

“I’m not sure if there are other fake couples, but we may not be the prettiest.” Cas stated. “I saw some very pretty men at lunch.” He nodded with enough sincerity that Dean couldn't help but laugh. He clapped a hand onto the angel’s shoulder. Oh yea, this was going to be a fun night…

 

~~~~


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killing vamps can be easy, once you find them. It helps when they want to be found.

The vampire wasn’t hard to find. He’d gotten overconfident with success of his recent killing spree. Dean sent Cas into the banquet hall to find their seats and keep up appearances. 

“You’ll hear me if I need you.”

He winked. Why the hell did he wink at Cas when he said that? Fuck.

Dean trotted down the hall after the mark. The guy was tall and handsome. He had an arm around a younger man who looked just a little bit uncomfortable about the interaction. Dean heard the word “swinger” before he coughed gently to announce his presence. The human said something about being late to dinner and slipped out from under the bloodsucker’s arm. 

The leech looked downright pissed for just a second. Then his eyes swept up to Dean’s face and down to his feet in one smooth movement. He smiled and blinked slowly at this new development. 

“Hey there.” Dean drawled. “Lookin’ for an appetizer?”

The leech chuckled. He reached a hand out and slipped his arm through Dean’s elbow. The human was proud of himself for not shuddering. The two men made their way out of a back door to enjoy the fresh air together. The vamp watched while Dean took off his long-sleeved shirt and hung it gently over a tree limb. He couldn’t believe his good luck. He didn’t realize luck had nothing to do with it. It’s just that it was hell trying to get blood out of wool. 

~~~~


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The case is over before it really began, but the weekend has just begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tweaked a few things to flesh it out a little more. Onward!

~~~~

Dean slipped back into his seat at dinner. He’d changed his pants since the dress slacks were now covered in blood. He’d removed the undershirt as well since he’d worked up a little sweat hacking the vamp’s head off. Even though he was cooler, which was nice, the wool was more than a little itchy in some places.

He gave a quick smile to the other men at their table. Simon, Justin, Dominic, and Steven (with a v!). He turned his attention to the back of Cas’ head. The angel was watching the speaker, politely giving the man his full attention. 

“Cas.” Dean whispered. “Deed’s done.” 

Castiel barely turned his head. “Good work.”

Dean smiled at the absent minded praise. “Let’s get going.” 

“Already?” The angel turned to look at him. “But you haven’t finished eating.” 

Dean looked down at the plate of medium-rare beef and garlic mashed potatoes. He didn’t even put up a fight. 

“Well, Sam did pay for the whole weekend, didn’t he? Least we can do is finish dinner.” He picked up a fork and dug in, not even caring that the plate was a little cold by now. Hunting did not often come with a hot meal. 

He wasn’t listening to the speaker - Brad, wasn’t it? - as the man chattered on about equality and acceptance and tomorrow’s event schedule. He was half way through a second dinner roll when the polite applause of the crowd pulled him out of his caloric revelry. 

“Thank you, thank you.” The voice was saying. “Thank you for that, but that’s enough.” He chuckled with a sweet humility that almost made Dean roll his eyes. “Now then, I’m going to give you your exercise for tonight and then dessert will be served. 

“Exercise?” Dean asked with his mouth full of bread and butter. And then, with more interest, “Dessert?” 

“Shh.” Cas said over his shoulder.

“I hear it’s peach pie.” Said a man across the table, smiling. Dean thought it was “Simon”, but he hadn’t really been paying attention during introductions. Still, anyone who liked pie was alright in Dean’s book. He smiled back and lifted his torn dinner roll in a gesture of solidarity. 

Brad was still talking. “Alrighty. Tonight’s exercise is an affirmation of love.” A murmur of apprehensive excitement ran through the room. Dean swallowed hard. The snakes hadn't been a problem while he dispatched the vamp, but now they were back, and they were starting to pick a fight with the steak and potatoes. 

“I want each of you to turn to your fella and tell him what it is about him that you find the most amazing, the most inspiring, the most loveable.” Brad’s eyes were practically twinkling. This was a seasoned homicide detective talking. Where the hell did he find the brainspace for this stuff? Dean couldn’t believe his eyes or his ears. The snakes were quickly winning the battle for dominance in his gut. “And because we’re here as a community, we’re going to support each other!” Brad smiled even wider. “Take turns at your table, one couple at a time, so that your new friends can celebrate your love with you.” He was absolutely giddy. “Alright, gentlemen, get to the lovin’!” There was another smattering of applause, accompanied by a few whistles and hoots. Dean considered flipping the table. 

The two other couples around his table were giggling and blushing like high schoolers. There were hands being held and eyes getting misty all over the banquet hall. Dean’s hands went to the edges of the table. Flipping it was becoming a more and more viable option. 

“Okay, who wants to go first?” One of the older men asked. Steven? Dean shook his head. How was he going to get out of this? 

“Why don’t you two go first?” Another guy responded to Steven. “Age before beauty.” He winked at the older couple and everyone had a nice laugh. Dean had a tight smile. Castiel was watching the proceedings with an expression of utter awe. 

“Okay, here goes.” Steven turned to his partner, Dominic. They held each other’s hands and talked about bravery, compassion and that time they sat on the beach in Mykonos with their toes in the sand. It was so sweet that Dean was sure his already high risk factors for diabetes just went through the roof. Next were Simon and Justin. They confessed to meeting online and not expecting anything more than a few good dates and a hook up or two. Well that was 6 years ago and they each had never been happier. Dean thought he might throw up, which was a shame, because even cold, that steak was pretty good. 

And suddenly, it was their turn. 

“I don’t...” Dean tugged at the napkin in his lap with both hands. 

“Come on.” Simon piped up, wiping his eyes. “You can do it.” Four heads nodded around the table. 

“I really can’t.” 

“Yes, yes you can.” Dominic’s eyes were soft as he encourage the younger man. “Just look at Jerry and tell him what it is you love about him.” 

Dean was pretty sure he was being punished. He looked around, expecting to see the Trickster dancing on a table with a drag queen on either side of him. When an alternate reality didn’t offer him a way out, he finally looked back and Cas. 

Holy shit. Cas. Castiel. 

It's okay. His rational brain tried to talk him down. This is a case. It’s just a cover. Even though the case is pretty much over, we gotta maintain the cover. 

“I, um.” 

The angel turned towards him, still wearing that that stupid expression of contentment. Dean turned in his chair. Dammit, Cas was close. Their knees bumped under the burgundy table cloth.

“I uh. I love…” 

Say something, Dean. They’re watching and Cas is watching and his eyes are on you. Those eyes. They’re just so blue.

“His eyes.” He choked the words out. “They’re blue. But not… not just blue.” He didn’t look around. He could feel the stares of these supportive bastards all over him. “They’re the kind of blue that happens after it rains, you know? When the clouds clear and you feel like… You feel like it’s going to be okay, because it was worth it.” 

Deep breath. Don't think. 

“Even though it seemed like the rain lasted forever, and you know it could rain again tomorrow, well, the sky is so blue that the rain doesn’t matter. You’ll stand in the rain day after day if it means you get to see that blue. It means that it’s all going to be okay. You’re going to be okay ‘cause you can see that blue sky watching over you.” 

Dean took a breath, and it rattled down his throat. He was looking down now, staring at his hands. He’d said it. He’d kept up the cover and he’d said it and… And now what? 

“Oh honey.” He didn’t know who said it. One of the other men at the table. He heard sniffles and a few dramatic gasps. “That was perfect.” He could feel them smiling at him. Dean glanced up and realized that there were tears standing in his eyes. At least it was over, at least he could be done and stop with this god-forsaken charade because it might actually be killing him to pretend this was all an act. It was time to head back to the room and get as drunk as possible on tiny bottles of liquor. 

“Okay, cutie. You’re next.” Simon was loving this.

Dean’s head snapped up. No. Fuck no. Cas. 

The angel was looking at him with a smile that wasn’t quite… right. Dean’s hands started to shake. Cas tilted his head to the side and considered the hunter. He looked into Dean’s eyes and the smile widened. 

“I love…” Yep. Dean was definitely going to throw up. “... his soul.” Their table mates sighed almost in unison. “His soul shines to me like the brightest star on a cloudless night." Cas sighed also, in the most human way. "He is a good man in a dangerous world.”

Dean’s heart stopped. His chest tightened and he held his breath until it hurt. Finally he gasped a ragged breath, praying that Castiel was done. The angel narrowed his eyes. Dammit, of course he’d hear Dean’s desperation. He’d hear that there was more to Dean’s words than a well kept cover and some accidental poetry. 

“He stands in the rain, and has faith that the clouds will part, even when…”

Cas reached out and placed a hand over Dean’s trembling knuckles. 

“... Even when others give up hope.” 

Dean bolted up out of his seat. The chair staggered back and the other men gasped. He looked down at the table of strangers. They were looking at him with expressions ranging from shock to sympathy and a dozen other feelings he didn’t care to try to decipher. 

“I can’t.” He turned and walked out of the banquet hall, a little too quickly. 

Cas looked up after him, brows knit together and mouth slightly open. 

“Oh, don’t worry, honey.” Someone else at the table said. “It always takes the pretty ones a little longer to come around.” Cas didn’t see the man wink at his partner. 

Dean ignored the looks of confusion and murmurs of speculation that followed him. He was just focused on holding in his angry tears until he got out of this god-forsaken room. He opened the massive doors and pushed right past the waitress bringing in the dessert cart, laden with fresh peach pie. 

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter with be the aftermath!  
> Please comment suggestions/edits. I occasionally mess up tenses, so please let me know if you see anything goofy.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back in the room, Cas and Dean have a long (long) talk.

Cas found his way back to their room easily. It was a big place, but the layout was pretty standard. And of course, there were the occasional pings on his angel radar. He tried not to let that rush him though. Can knew Dean wanted space at the moment, but well, they had only the one room. 

He took a few seconds to appreciate the well-built walls and clean smelling hallways. It was so unlike the no-tell motels they usually stayed in on the road. He understood the necessity of those places, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. The angel stopped in front of their room. Dean had been very upset. He knew that. He did not want to barge in on his… friend and upset him further. They had had several conversations about personal space and propriety. Castiel, angel of the lord, defender of humanity, champion of free will, raised his fist… and knocked. 

“Dean?” His voice was low but strong. He thought he heard a small commotion on the other side of the door. There was a clink of glass, and then a gruff, “Yea.”

“May I come in?” He asked. He hoped his tone did not betray any of the hesitation he was feeling. 

“Yea.” The response was not enthusiastic, but it was enough. Cas turned the large brass knob and walked into the room. 

There was a duffle bag on the floor, open, and half-packed with a variety of things. He was fairly certain some of those items did not belong to the Winchesters. Several small bottles that used to contain alcohol were sitting on top of the television. A few more were laying on the floor in front of the dresser. Cas looked at them and considered the labels. 

“I didn’t think you cared for that brand.” He said evenly. 

“Yea, well, anything’ll do in a pinch.” Dean’s voice was dismissive and far too casual. The angel looked at him and extended his hand. He was holding a plate with an exceptionally large slice of peach pie. 

“You forgot your dessert.” 

Dean’s heart reached up through his chest and punched him in the nose. 

“Aw, Jesus, Cas.”

“What about him?” The angel reached into a pocket and pulled out a fork. 

“Nothing. Dammit.” Dean took the plate and the fork. Even though there was a small table or maybe it was a desk, in the room, the hunter sat on the edge of the bed, resting his hands on his legs. “Why did you have to bring me pie?” 

Dean looked at the mini bar. There was definitely not enough alcohol left in this room to beat his emotions into submission. Some fricken retreat this was.

“I don’t understand.” Cas tilted his head to the side. “You love pie.”

“Yes.” Dean’s face fell to look at the plate on his lap. “Yes I do. I fucking love it.” He very nearly threw the plate across the room, but settled for standing up and putting it on the end table instead. 

“Well, good, then.” The angel watched as Dean flopped onto the rough upholstery of the couch on the opposite side of the room. 

“Yea. Good. Great.” Dean’s hand was over his eyes. Why was he trying to hide his eyes, Cas wondered. “You always take care of me.”

“What?” Cas wasn’t sure if he should move closer to the older Winchester or not. Dean seemed to be dealing with a certain degree of turmoil at the moment. 

“I said. You always. Take care of me.” Dean did not sit up, nor did he remove his hand from his eyes.

“Well, I care about you.” This seemed like a fairly obvious statement of fact to Castiel, but it seemed to strike a chord in the man on the couch. Dean’s hands fell to his thighs as he let out a breath that he didn’t realize he was holding. 

“Why did you say what you said?” 

“About the pie?” Human conversation was still confusing sometimes. Even having been almost human on occasion didn’t allow him to fully understand the complexities of their interaction. 

“No. Jesus!”

“You know he can hear you.” Cas removed his jacket and placed it over the back of a chair. 

“What?”

“He can hear you when you say his name. It’s like when you pray to me.”

“Well, that makes some things awkward.” Flashes of previous romantic entanglements jumped through Dean’s mind.

“That may be one of the reasons you’re taught not to take his name in vain. I imagine it is distracting.” 

Speaking of distractions, Dean thought… He couldn’t decide if he was happy or sad that their conversation had been derailed. He hazarded a look at Cas, turning his head where it rested on the arm of the couch. The angel sat on the edge of the queen-sized bed, studying his hands as though the answers to all life’s questions lay between his knuckles. Shit. He looked so lost, and maybe just a little hurt. Double shit. 

“Cas.” There was hope in his eyes when he looked a Dean. Triple shit. “Why…”

“Why did I say what I said at the table?”

“Yea.” It was hard for Dean to maintain eye contact. Dean Winchester. The man who’d killed more monsters than most people knew existed. The man who’d told an archangel to shove it. The man who’d literally been to Hell and back. Well, that was it, wasn’t it? The “and back” part… That never would have happened without Cas. Without Castiel the angel who raised a broken and bleeding soul from the torture of perdition. 

“I said it because…” Would he lie? Would he mince words or tell a half-truth? “I said them because I meant them.” 

There it was. No denying it now. Dean fell back against the arm of the couch again. 

“You know that you are different Dean. You know that you are…” Cas paused, looking for the word, “... greater.” He finished, though he did not seem entirely satisfied with his choice. 

“Yea, Dean the Great! That’s me!” He threw his hands up in the air and nearly leapt off the couch. The hunter stalked towards the mini fridge and tore it open, even though he already knew there was nothing satisfying inside it.

Cas knew enough to stay quiet at this juncture. Dean whirled on him after a few moments of silence. 

“Well? Aren’t you gonna tell me there’s a larger plan and a bigger picture and all that crap?” He opened a bottle of… something… and drank it in one all too short gulp.

“Would you like me to?” 

“No! Dammit. I want you to tell me why you said what you said!” 

Cas’ eyes squinted. “I thought I already did.” 

Dean tossed the minute bottle into the trash can, where it landed with a surprisingly loud “clink!”.

“Yea, sure.” He stalked back to the couch and sat down roughly, placing his head in his hands. 

“Dean.” The angel’s voice was soft. The human looked up, eyes tight and brow pinched. “I have watched the humans for many years. I have walked among you for the past months, marveling at the resilience of your kind. I have seen terrible things happen to wonderful people.” Castiel looked down at his vessel, remembering how it felt to slip into Jimmy’s body as the man lay dying. Jimmy was a good man, and Cas tried to take care of the gift he’d left behind. 

Dean was uncharacteristically quiet as he watched the angel process his thoughts. He suddenly wished they were in the Impala. That was the proper place for a conversation like this. 

“I have seen people sacrifice everything, often without the desire for a reward.” Cas placed his hands on his borrowed knees, and rose to face Dean Winchester. “But none have been as resilient, sacrificed so much, or had as much hope, as you.” 

Dean blinked, looking up at Cas, which was a rare occurrence in and of itself. 

“What?”

“No one I have seen in the thousands of years I’ve watched humanity, save perhaps your brother, has given up as much as you. Has suffered as much as you. And yet, you still have hope.”

Dean tried to look at him. Green eyes met blue. The hunter looked away first. 

“Cas. I haven’t…” 

“Yes. You have.” The angel was adamant. “You gave up your life for your brother’s. You sacrificed your childhood for Sam and your Father. You ignore your own comfort and health each day in order that someone else may live a little better, longer, and freer. You save people, even when they don’t realize they need to be saved.”

“Stop. Please, Cas. Just… stop.” Dean ran a hand through his hair. He never knew what to do with praise, or at least not sincere admiration. He could handle compliments in a bar and the occasional rescued damsel, but this… this was too much. “I can’t.”

“Yes you can.” Dean tilted his head up to look at his friend. “You’ve said that so many times tonight. And every time you have been wrong.” 

Anger and pain and frustration all warred for dominance on Dean’s features. 

“You know what Cas, you’re right. I have been wrong. I’ve been wrong a hell of a lot in my life.” He was angry now. That was good. Anger was familiar, easier. “I’ve made a shitload of mistakes. Probably more than any of those other idiots you spent time spying on.” 

Castiel lifted a shoulder in what might have been a shrug. 

“That just means you’ve tried harder.” 

“Don’t Hallmark me, man.” Dean stood up now, glaring at the angel. 

“I’m not hall-mark-ing you.” Castiel conjugated the new word as best he could. “I am telling the truth.” He cleared his throat. “You have made many mistakes, and failed many times.”

Dean rolled his eyes. Now he was being insulted? It was getting hard to keep up. 

“But that only means that you tried more times. You’ve been more creative and more determined than most humans ever have cause to be. You’ve saved countless people from having to make the same choices, the same mistakes, because you chose to take them onto yourself instead.”

There was a passion in the angel’s words that Dean hadn’t seen before. Any flippant or dismissive remarks died on his lips when Castiel spoke again. 

“And I do love your soul. It is broken and tarnished and scarred, and as perfect as I have ever seen a human soul to be.” Dean’s throat tightened. “I have loved it from the moment I saw it shining in the pit of Hell. And I love it still.” Cas’ eyes were so blue. Were they glowing a little? Just a bit? Or was that an illusion caused by the tears welling up in Dean’s eyes? 

“The man told me to tell you what I loved about you and so I did.” His speech was finished, and the angel seemed almost deflated as the energy of his admission fizzled out to join the tension in the room. 

“Yea…” Of course it was that simple to Cas. “Yea you did.” The man told him to. He was told to confess what he loved about Dean, and so he did. It couldn’t have been something simple, like his car, or his hair, he did have great hair, or the way he could swing an angel blade. Nope. It had to be something huge. And overwhelming. And so god-damned intimate. His soul? Really? 

Dean’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, though he was far from hitting anything. He just needed to move a little. He needed to ground himself somehow - to focus. His head was swimming, and he thought he might drown. Dean dug his nails into his palms. The pain seeped into his hands and trickled up his arms. This was real. This was happening. He unclenched his fists, and opened his eyes. He hadn’t even realized they were closed. Cas wasn’t looking at him. The angel had sat on the bed again. He was looking at the beam that he’d been studying earlier. He reached out a hand and caressed the sealed wood again, tracing his fingers along the grains. Dean stared at that hand. He marveled at the long fingers, and the subtle veins just under the surface. His mind wondered what it would feel like to hold that hand, to kiss those knuckles, to have those fingertips trace the lines of his body like they were doing to the ancient tree beneath them now. A simmering warmth spread through Dean’s belly. This wasn’t like the butterflies, caterpillars, or roiling snakes from before. No, this was a familiar heat that he’d only felt a few times before. Mostly during that year that he played house while Sammy was gone. 

The memories slammed into him like a mac truck. No. It was all too much. 

“It’s okay, Dean.” Cas’ voice swept the images away, and once again Dean opened eyes that he didn’t remember closing. 

“It’s okay if you don’t… feel the same. I understand that you had a case to accomplish, and a cover to uphold.” Cas’ fingers didn’t falter on the trail of the wood grain. 

“What?” Dean stared at the back of the angel’s head. The warmth was almost gone; dissipated, but he thought he could feel it still, hovering on the edges of his awareness.

“It’s okay if you didn’t mean the things you said at dinner.” Cas didn’t look at him. It didn’t seem like that would be okay at all to Dean.

“Cas.” 

“I’m not expecting you to feel the same way.”

“Cas.” 

“I know human emotions are complicated.”

“Cas!” 

Finally, the angel’s head turned. He saw waves of pain crashing over Dean’s face. “I. Can’t.” 

Cas’ head fell. He looked at the carpet, trying to find comfort in the deep earth tones of the pattern, even though he knew there was none to be had there. 

“I understand.”

“No.” Dean’s voice was choked, but he was trying. Dammit, he was really trying. “I can’t… lose you.” 

Castiel blinked. His brows knit together as he looked up at the Winchester who was clearly struggling to maintain any kind of composure. 

“Cas. I’ve lost too many. My parents, Bobby, Lisa and Ben, Ellen and Jo… Sam…” Dean tilted his head back and looked at the ceiling as though he could find guidance in between the rustic beams. “Jesus, how many times have I lost Sammy?” 

He dropped his head and looked back at the angel, tears starting to flow just one or two at a time, rolling over his cheeks. 

“I can’t lose someone else… that I love.” 

That was it. He said it. He was done. Dean sat on the edge of the bed opposite of his angel, and buried his face in his hands. He was broken. Tears flowed between his fingers and down his wrists. He took gasping, sucking breaths as he sobbed. He cried for the people he’d lost, and those who’d lost him. He couldn’t do it again. No matter how strong or determined Cas seemed to think he was… Dean didn’t see it. Losing anyone else… he knew it would undo him.   
He didn’t know how long he sat like that, quietly crying into his hands. All he knew was that he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. At first it just layed there, just a simple gesture of comfort. Then it started to move. Castiel ran his hand back and forth across Dean’s shoulders, making lazy circles with his palm and fingers. After a few seconds, the angel began to make small noises. Gentle sounds that wove their way into Dean’s ear and released the tension in his neck and face. He recognized bits of Enochian, wrapped in snippets of Latin and the occasional other unknown tongue. They sat like this until Dean’s tears abated enough that he could sit up and take a full breath. Neither one of them cared about the time. 

~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo this is getting a lot longer than I intended. There are just so many feelings!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That talk definitely shook loose some feelings. Maybe they should act on them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for waiting so long for the smut - I hope it's worth it!

Dean sucked in a rattling breath as he gathered a measure of composure. He lifted his face from his hands and just breathed again, feeling the ache in his lungs. He didn’t turn to look at his angel just yet. He felt raw. Like a bruise, just waiting to be hit or bumped ‘cause that’s what always happened when you had a bruise - you knocked it off of stuff and made it hurt even worse.

The bed shifted as Castiel stood up. Dean almost reached for him. His body didn’t move, but his mind lunged, willing the angel not to leave. Cas seemed to hesitate for just a second. He glanced over his shoulder so quickly that it might not have happened at all. The angel stepped into the bathroom and reappeared a moment later holding a cool, damp wash cloth. He crossed the room with that inhuman gracefulness and extended the cloth to Dean.

Dean reached out and took the little beige square. A fresh wave of silent tears leaked down his cheeks. He could barely remember the last time someone had taken care of him like this. Sure, Sammy could dig a bullet out or stitch up a stab wound, but no one wiped his tears away anymore. The last time, shit. He’d been a kid. 

He’d skinned his knee like little boys do, and Mary Winchester had provided the neosporin and batman band-aid that his little body needed. He remembered her wiping his tear-streaked face with a cold, wet, washcloth, and that had done more to relieve his pain than a hundred batman band-aids could have done. The cool fabric felt the same now as he wiped his face with it. Except, when he looked up, instead of seeing his mother, heavily pregnant with his little brother, he saw a different kind of angel. The image of the long-gone simpler time faded rapidly. The reality of his life and current situation came crashing back, but he felt a little easier about it just now. He looked into Cas’ eyes and actually managed a small smile. 

“Thanks.” 

His voice was thick. Dean offered the washcloth back to Cas and the angel took it without speaking. He weighed the bit of fabric in his hands for a moment, studying the knit of the weave.

Dean stared up at Castiel. He didn’t know what to say anymore. He’d already said more than he’d ever planned on saying. He opened his mouth to attempt… something, when Cas turned and walked back to the bathroom. Dean could hear the sink turn on and then off again. He watched Cas come back into the room and cross the space to the bed with a determined expression.

This time Castiel came to stand in front of Dean. He placed a gentle hand on the hunter’s cheek and pressed the cloth to his skin again. Cas wiped his friend’s face without speaking, he just paid attention to the flushed cheekbones and puffy eyes. Then he slid the cloth down Dean’s jaw and onto his throat. Cas worked the fabric across the other man’s neck, rubbing with just a bit more pressure on the perpetually tight muscles. Dean actually groaned when the cool rag sunk onto either side of his spine. His head fell forward and landed gently on Cas’ chest. The angel smiled as he continued to minister to his friend. He slipped the cloth around inside the collar of Dean’s shirt and felt the heat rising off of his skin. 

“You are very warm.” He commented, resting a hand on the top of Dean’s head that was still pressed to his chest.

“Hmm?” Dean tilted his face a bit but did not break the contact. “Oh. Yea. This shirt is hot.” 

Castiel smiled. He knew that word had multiple meanings. 

“You could take it off.” He mused, running a finger over Dean’s ear. 

“What?” The hunter’s head lifted then, rather quickly. 

“If you’re too warm, you can take it off.” Cas slid the washcloth off of Dean’s neck and held the now lukewarm fabric in his hands. 

Dean’s brain twitched. He’d just make a gut-wrenching confession. How was Castiel so calm? Damn his angelic Asperger's…

“Cas.” 

The angel took the cloth away then - it was warm with the heat pulled from the hunter’s body. 

“You don’t have to, but you should be comfortable.” 

Dean breathed slowly. Okay, so Cas was just concerned about his comfort. He was still being a good friend. Awesome. 

“Yea… I guess it does itch a little.” He stood up then, twisting his neck to test the new-found ease in his muscles. 

The angel was standing near the bed. He still held the washcloth as he watched Dean cross the room to the open duffle bag. Cas decided not to mention the haphazard attempt at packing. He watched as Dean rummaged through the bag and pulled out a somewhat wrinkled t-shirt. He watched the human unbutton the formal shirt, slowly exposing a few inches of skin at a time. Occasionally a pearly scar marked the hunter’s torso, thought Dean was pretty good at guarding his center. When he peeled the thick wool off of his arms, more scars stood out on the lightly tanned flesh. Cas could see the slightly pinkish areas where the wool had rubbed Dean’s skin. He found himself wanting to tend to the irritated skin, not with his angel mojo, but with his hands, and maybe his lips, even his tongue. The realization startled Castiel. He’d been observing Dean Winchester for years, and though his feelings of admiration and adoration had steadily grown, there were few physical indications of his affections until recently. His most recent brush with humanity appeared to have some lingering effects.

Dean pretended not to notice the angel’s eyes on him as he changed his shirt. He had no idea what to do now, where to go from here, but at least he was more comfortable in his clothing… Even if he was uncomfortable in every other way.

Cas crossed the room again and replaced the washcloth on the hook by the sink. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror. He stared at Jimmy Novack’s features for a few moments. Was this a form that Dean would appreciate? When he stepped into the bedroom again, he found the hunter seated on the bed once more, though he’d removed his shoes and socks in the time it took Cas to study his vessel.

For some reason, there was something intensely erotic about Dean’s appearance in that moment. His eyes were still red and raw with the emotion. His arms were tanned from drives in the sun and scarred from so much time in a dangerous life, even though his flesh had been made new in his rise from the pit. His bare feet were flat on the dark patterned rug, and they stuck out from the dark wash jeans in a strange assertion of masculinity. 

Cas reached up to his throat and loosened his tie. He undid the button at the base of his throat, trying to ease the tension welling up in his chest. 

“Dean?”

Those eyes. Their light green glow pierced him to his core. The lines etched around Dean’s eyes were deeper than they should have been on a man in his early thirties. Those were eyes that had seen more death, both warranted and unmerited, than they deserved. Cas saw the worry in those lines; they days and weeks Dean had spent wondering about Cas when the angel did not answer his prayers. He saw the years spent worrying about a brother who was intelligent, independent, and so very important. He saw the late night vigils and sick bed watches. He saw so many things he loved in the lines around those eyes. 

“Yea, Cas?”

Dean’s voice was still thick. There was fear there, and just enough hope.

“I would very much like to kiss you.”

“What?” The green eyes blinked and went wide. 

“I would like to kiss you.” Cas did not move from where he stood in the center of the room. It was not a large room, but the space felt at once too far and not far enough from the hunter. 

Dean’s mouth opened and shut. He couldn’t form a response just yet. The angel wanted to kiss him. Did he want to kiss Cas? His pants tightened at the thought. Okay, okay, shit. Apparently he really wanted to kiss Cas. 

“It is common for people who love each other to express that love physically, is it not?” Did Cas look nervous? Was the angel afraid of rejection? Holy shit. 

“Yea. I, uh. I guess it is.” Dean wrapped a hand around his neck and rubbed absently. “But we ain’t exactly common are we?”

“Does that mean you’d rather not?”

“No!” Good work, Winchester, break the little featherduster’s heart. “I just, I didn’t think…” 

“Because I am an a seraph, you assumed I was not interested in carnal things?”

“Well, yea.” Dean dropped the hand that had been on his neck. He clasped his fingers together on his lap and looked up at Castiel. “I thought angels were immune to all that.” He wasn’t sure if he was happy or scared to learn otherwise. It was one thing to love someone. It was something else to love someone. 

“I have been human, or close to it, more than once.” Cas was still standing, though he was starting to look a little awkward there in the center of the room. “I remember the sensations, and, well, I am feeling some things that are new, and some that are more… familiar.” 

Jimmy had been married for many years. Married couples did things. There were memories and ideas in his vessel that he could access if he needed to. However, at this moment, Castiel was very much aware of his own ideas. He was not sure how to do all of those things with a man, but he was very willing to learn. He stared at Dean sitting on the edge of the bed. He did not want to make the hunter uncomfortable, or put any undue pressure on him, but the silence was dragging on. 

When Dean Winchester stood up, the angel’s heart missed a beat. When the he crossed the space between them, Castiel’s mouth went dry. He licked his lips once, wondering why he felt the urge to do so, but not questioning it. There was a time and place for human instinct, and this might just be both of them. 

Dean stood in front of the angel, looking down at the familiar shape of his nose, cheeks, and brow. 

“Cas.” Dean took the angel’s hand and looked at it. He knew how this part was supposed to go. He’d been with enough people in his 15 plus years of sexual activity, that he knew how to get the ball rolling, so to speak. But out of all those people, well, he could count the number that he loved, truly loved, on one hand. Love made things more complicated. But, if there’s one thing the Winchesters were good at, it’s complicated. “I want to kiss you too.”

The angel’s smile made Dean’s heart boil over. He was still scared, still in disbelief, but he knew this was going to happen.

Dean lowered his head. He snaked a hand up and gently cupped Castiel’s throat, thumb resting on his jaw. He felt the angel’s heartbeat under his palm. He felt it racing. At least Cas was nervous too. That made it a little easier, right? Dean took a deep breath, and shut his brain off. He dipped his head forward and touched his lips to Cas’. 

There were no explosions. Clouds didn’t part, and mountains didn’t shift. No, there was nothing like a romance novel hyperbole here. There was just the warmth of their lips as they tentatively moved and worked against each other. Then Dean felt Cas sigh, and everything was right with the world. He felt the tension flow out of him, and a weight was lifted. Their lips pressed against each other’s like teenagers’ in the back of a car. New and exciting and oh so good. 

He reach the tip of his tongue out to taste Cas’ lips, and he was only a little surprised when they opened for him. Dean brought his other hand up to hold his angel’s face. There was a hint of stubble under his hand. He liked it. 

Cas’ hands were on his hips then, and Dean decided he liked that too. They stood like that for a while, just holding each other, kissing with lips and tongues and hearts. Then Cas’ hands started to move. They slipped up, just a little, warm fingers sliding under the soft cotton of Dean’s shirt. The hunter’s eyes opened when he felt the light pressure on either side of his spine. Cas slid his fingers back to Dean’s hips, this time touching flesh instead of fabric. It felt amazing. It felt intimate and familiar and… it tickled. Dean chuckled against Cas’ lips. The angel’s eyes opened. He tilted his head back and asked “What’s funny?”

“Nothing.” Dean cleared his throat. He didn’t want to ruin the moment. It was a really nice moment. He’d taken his hands off Cas’ face at some point. One was on the angel’s shoulder and the other was somewhere on his ribs. 

It was clear that Cas did not believe him. Dean blinked and looked down at the space, or lack thereof, between them. 

“thattickles” he mumbled.

“What?” Cas turned his head to try to look at the hunter’s face. 

“That tickles…” Dean looked purposefully away from the other man. 

“Really?” Cas’ face split into a smile. 

Dean felt short fingernails touch his sides and start to move. He tried to stay still, really. “Hey!”

This time Cas chuckled.

“Are you telling me, that you, Dean Winchester, scourge of evil and protector of mankind…” his fingers crept up towards ribs now and the human squirmed harder “... are ticklish?”

“No!” Dean wiggled against the strong hands on either side of him. He was laughing now, his earlier tears all but forgotten. This was not how this was supposed to go. This was supposed to be awkward and scary, not fun and… comfortable. “Shut up.” 

Cas chuckled again and his fingers stilled on the hunter’s flesh. The shirt was bunched up around his forearms, and the flat plane of Dean’s stomach was exposed. Cas liked how his pale hands looked on the sun-kissed skin of Dean’s waist. He must have been working on the car without a shirt on. Cas knew he liked how that looked too. 

“Make me.” The angel breathed against the human’s neck, and Dean’s knees shuddered. Could knees shudder? Well, his just did, so apparently yes. Yet another thing his body was capable of. He turned his head and planted another kiss, a little rougher than the last few, on Cas’ lips.

“Cheesy.” Dean spoke against Cas’ mouth, the word muffled by their embrace.

“Yes.” Cas released one side of Dean’s body and brought the hand up to weave into the hunter’s hair. “But it worked.”

“Mhhmm.” Dean wrapped his arms around the angel’s waist. He liked this. This felt good. He assumed doing more would feel even better. Was he ready for that? Were they ready for that? Then he felt Cas’ teeth nip at his lower lip, and his brain decided to power down again.

“Cas.” Dean’s deep voice was almost a growl. If they didn’t stop soon, this playful exploration was bound to take a turn. He grabbed the angel’s face again and kissed him harder. He thought he felt a smile under his lips. 

“Dean.” Cas pulled his head away, and Dean almost growled again. Then the angel’s lips were on his throat, kissing at the freckled skin. He moaned just enough to let Cas know that he was onto something. Of course the tightness in Dean’s pants was also a very strong indicator that all was well. Cas licked the hunter’s earlobe, and smiled at the twitch under his belt. He was glad to be able to give his beloved pleasure. He was glad that Dean seemed willing to receive it. 

“Dean, I’d like to take your shirt off.” 

“Okay.” The hunter wasn’t sure why that needed to be verbalized, but as Cas’ hands slipped to the hem of the shirt and pulled the wrinkled fabric over his head, he found himself grateful for the warning. Was that what Cas what doing? Trying to make Dean comfortable; taking away whatever surprises he could so that the hunter felt in control? Holy shit. That was… overwhelming. Dean blinked hard and didn’t let himself think about it. He just focused on the love. Everything that Cas was doing to him, every touch and kiss, every smile and caress, it was all coming from a place of love. He’d never felt so understood by a lover. He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt so loved. 

Then Cas’ warm hands were on his chest, and he was sure of it. The angel’s hands ran over the newly exposed flesh, touching scars and freckles and that striking tattoo. Dean felt the heat rising to his face. He sighed into the touch and let his head fall back. Cas smiled, watching Dean relax into his ministrations. He’d worship this body like an idol in biblical times. It was more beautiful than that golden baby cow anyways, even if it didn’t shine so brightly. He ran his hands up and down the hunter’s torso, tripping fingers over ribs that had been broken and mended countless times. He brushed the pad of his thumb over one tight nipple and was rewarded with another appreciative lurch from Dean’s pants. Someday, he’d like to spend the entire night just touching Dean Winchester. Someday, he’d count the freckles that covered his face and shoulders and draw constellations in them. But today was not that day. 

His hands fell to the waistband of the Levi’s and hovered just over the belt buckle. 

“Dean.” Cas’ mouth was back against the hunter’s ear. His warm breath rolled over the taller man’s throat. Goosebumps prickled along his arms, though Cas was fairly certain they weren't because the human was chilled. 

“I’d like to touch you.” The placement of Cas’ hands made his intentions as clear as his words. Dean’s head fell forward and his lashes fluttered. Goddamn. This was hot. He’d seen a sign somewhere on some campus once that said “Consent is Sexy”. He’d never understood it until this moment. The rise and fall of his chest had him brushing against the crisp fabric of Cas’ starched white shirt. 

“Yes.” He nodded, but his hands fell on the angel’s wrists. “But wait.” He turned his head and placed a kiss on Cas’ temple. It soothed the little bolt of anxiety that had risen in him. Dean took half a step back and reached up to slide the skinny end of the tie out of the knot. He slid it out of Cas’ collar and threw it somewhere. Someday they could have a lot of fun with a tie, and maybe a belt, and something with feathers… Dean smiled and dropped his hands to the first button he could reach.

“Can I?” He felt like he should be as polite as the angel was, for as long as he could manage. 

“Please.” Cas nodded and smiled. He undid the buttons at his wrists so that by the time Dean had the center row undone, the shirt could be peeled off with minimal effort. Untucking the formal shirt had made Dean realise just how aroused Cas was as well. There was a visible tent in his khakis, and the sight made Dean’s stomach flip. He’d never done this before, but dammit, he was a fast learner and he was determined to figure things out. Besides, he knew how to um, handle, himself - how different could another dick be? If one was good, two was better, right? Then Cas’ hands were back on his belt buckle and once again, Dean told his brain to shut up. 

The angel’s deft fingers had the leather freed from the metal clasp in seconds. He attacked the button then, and Dean swore he could feel every tooth of the zipper being separated from its partner. He’d never felt a zipper move more slowly, and he looked down to see if the angel was torturing him on purpose. Cas slipped two fingers into the elastic band of his pale blue boxers, and Dean’s throat closed. The fingers slid slower, just brushing the nest of ruddy hair at the base of his cock. Dean coughed, trying to breath. The newfound freedom let his penis reach upward, and it was barely contained by the soft cotton. Cas slid his hand up, following the light trail of delicate hair until his thumb was just under Dean’s belly button. The hunter may have whimpered at the loss. If that was something he would ever do… His breathing was ragged and desperate. He didn’t even know what he was thinking, but he was pretty sure he was begging somewhere in his mind… and that Cas could hear it. Fuck it. This was no place for pride or reservation. 

“Cas.”

The angel stepped to his side and wrapped his left arm around the hunter. He rested his head on Dean’s chest, and his short black hair tickled against his beloved’s throat. Cas watched his own hand as it turned back towards its intended target. This time he stayed outside of the fabric, at least at first. His fingers wrapped around the straining shaft, feeling the heat of it through the thin cotton. He felt Dean’s groan reverberate through his chest. Cas smiled. His hand moved slowly, testing, learning. He ran his thumb over the head, listening to Dean’s sharp inhale and marveling at the tiny wet spot that darkened the light blue fabric. He eased the tension just enough so he could move his fingers to the slit in the boxers. These were an old, comfortable pair, and there wasn’t even a button or snap to block his progress. 

In the longest three seconds of Dean’s life, Castiel was touching skin again. This time he could feel the hunter’s pulse as his cock throbbed with appreciation. He flicked his wrist and Dean’s phallus was almost free. The room was warm enough, but the air felt cool against the exposed flesh. Dean looked down then, and had to consciously decide to breath. The sight of Cas’ pale fingers wrapped around his cock was almost too much. Baseball. Cold Showers. Changing Baby’s oil. Research! Lots and lots of research. Then Cas’ hand started to move again. Dean screwed his eyes shut. 

“Oh Jesus.” 

Cas tilted his head up, admiring the fierce look of restraint and pleasure on Dean’s face. He place a warm, chaste kiss on the underside of the hunter’s jaw. 

“Cas.” Dean corrected himself; some small part of him remembering that the sandal guy could hear when you said His name. This was definitely not something Dean wanted an audience for.  
“Holy fuck, Cas.” Eloquent as always, Winchester. 

Cas smiled against Dean’s neck and kissed him again. He nuzzled along his throat and jaw while his hand moved slowly enough to drive the hunter insane. 

“Someday.” He said to Dean’s adam’s apple.

“Hm?” Dean’s eyes were still shut. He felt the scrape of Cas’ erection pressing through the khaki against his leg. His own pants had fallen to his ankles at some point. How kind of them to remove themselves from the situation. 

“I am an angel.” Cas slid his free hand into the waistband of Dean’s boxers, just above his ass. “By definition, having sex with me will be a holy fuck.” He drug his fingernails along one tense ass cheek, causing Dean to shiver. His other hand kept moving on the beautiful cock, occasionally sliding low enough to brush against the tangle of hair above Dean’s balls. 

“Literal.” Dean was losing rational thought. Foreplay was great, but this slow dance was going to melt his brain. His eyes were still closed, so he didn’t see Cas’ smile, but he knew it was there. Sometimes it seemed the angel was very aware that his interpretations and explanations amused the hunter. It was time for Dean to regain a measure of composure. Without interrupting Cas’ grip, he did his best to reach for the angel’s pants. He undid the belt and fly with trembling fingers, though he gained strength as he focused on the task before him. Cas did move a little to give him better access, but his hand never released it’s hold on Dean’s prick. He was excited to have the favor returned, but he also was content to focus on his beloved for the time being. They had the rest of their lives to pleasure each other, or at the very least, the rest of the weekend. 

Dean gave the belt a final push and the khakis slid ceremoniously to the ground. He mimicked Cas’ earlier path, first dipping his fingers into the band and caressing the base of Cas’ phallus with strong fingers. He heard the angel gasp and gave him a little chuckle. Turnabout’s fair play, or something like that. Instead of working around the outside though, Dean simply angled his wrist and reach his entire hand into Cas’ bright white boxers. He looked down at the taut muscles of the vessel’s body, and decided that Cas would look great in boxer briefs. He pictured that handsome bulge strained against tight fabric that clung to the angel’s thighs and ass. Dean groaned and dropped his head onto Cas’ shoulder. His cock throbbed in the angel’s hand. He was getting close. He hadn’t had such a slow and thorough hand job in, well, ever? It was a sadly neglected art. This angel really was a blessing. 

“Cas.” His hand was pleasantly full. He hadn’t even seen the angel’s dick yet, but he knew he liked it. “Cas, you feel so fuckin’ good.” 

“Mmmhhmmm.” Cas agreed, his face pressed against Dean’s chest. Everything about this was good. 

The sound rumbled against Dean’s skin, and his cock very nearly fired a warning shot. He needed to stop. He didn’t want to end this glorious exchange, but he also didn’t want to make a mess on the carpet. His free hand reached over and found Cas’ cheek. He turned the angel’s head and kissed him, urgent and wet. 

“Bed.” He said, drawing his hand out of Cas’ boxers in a way that made it clear he didn’t want to let go. 

Cas nodded against Dean’s lips and let go of the hunter’s cock for the first time in what felt like and hour. Both men stepped out of their pooled trousers and their eyes met for an instant. They were doing this. This was real. This was incredible and years in the making and very real. Dean slipped his thumbs into the waist of his boxers and with one practiced motion, sent the cumbersome fabric to the floor. Cas smiled his open, intoxicating smile and followed suit. Then they were there, naked and exposed in front of each other. And, well, Dean was happy. Stupidly happy. He sat on the bed behind him and slid back, resting on his elbows. He looked over Cas, appreciating the lithe muscle and well-made form of his angel’s vessel. He licked his lips and sat up, holding out a hand. 

Cas let himself be admired for a moment, since he was doing the same thing to Dean’s body. He looked at the bulk of the hunter taking up most of the bed, and smiled with appreciation. If Dean’s physical build was appealing, it was nothing compared to the glow of his soul. Everything about his was gorgeous, and Cas was elated to be able to appreciate him fully. 

He took the hand that was offered, getting onto the bed on his knees. He pressed the hand back into the pillows and followed, kissing Dean again once the hunter was laying down in the soft bed. His free hand went back to it’s previous task, this time moving with more confidence and a much better angle. Dean groaned into Cas’ kiss. Fuck, but this was glorious. He wove the fingers of the pinned hand between Cas’, reveling in the contact. His other hand came up and rested on the angel’s bicep. Feeling the muscles twitch and contract as Cas pumped his straining cock was almost too much. He was fighting hard not to lose the control he’d recovered in their few seconds apart. Then Cas pulled his mouth away. 

“Dean?”

“Hmm.” 

The angel kissed his chest. That was nice. Then he licked a nipple. That was really nice. Then Cas’ hand left his cock, and he almost whimpered again. Which was not something he would do. Really. 

“Dean, may I taste you?” Okay, maybe he’d whimper in certain circumstances… This was a pretty fucking certain circumstance. He was glad there was nothing touching his dick at the moment. That might have been the end of him. 

“Fuck, Cas.” Words were failing him. He nodded, even though he was pretty sure he had t-minus eight seconds before he’d be spent and snoring if that beautiful mouth touched his cock. 

The angel kissed him again and smiled. He didn’t let go of Dean’s hand, he just brought it with him while he slid down the hunter’s torso. Cas resettled their fingers and pressed into the comforter as he positioned himself over Dean’s phallus. It was practically reaching for his lips. It wasn’t as big as the Pizza Man’s, but it was still a little intimidating. Cas licked his lips. Dean saw the angel bite his lower lip as he considered the best way to begin. He had to stop watching then. Seeing that beautiful face look at his dick like it was a slice of prime rib was intoxicating. He leaned back against the pillow and tightened his grip on Cas’ hand. Then the angel’s mouth was on him, around him, covering him. Cas took the first few inches into his mouth, tasting the sensitive flesh and drops of ejaculate that were eagerly coating the soft head. He was pleasantly surprised by the salty muskiness of it all, and took in a few more inches. He worked his tongue against the thick shaft, swallowing as best he could. Dean hissed through his teeth. Yep. Dead. He was going to die. Again. He felt Cas’ breath roll over his balls and everything clenched. The next breath tickled the hair at the base of his cock, and he released a primal sound that seemed to amuse Castiel. He swore he could feel a smile as the angel began to move his head. Back and forth, up and down, lips and tongue moved along his cock. Dean didn’t think he’d ever been this hard. He could feel his heartbeat pounding against the walls of his veins. Cas traced one of those veins with his tongue, and Dean felt a tightening in his balls. 

“Cas.” He tried to look, tried to pick his head up and see the glory that was happening, but he just couldn’t do it. “Cas!” 

The angel felt the shudder in his mouth. He heard the desperation in Dean’s voice, he felt the prayer in his beloved’s mind. He sighed then, happier than he’d ever been, and squeezed Dean’s hand. Cas moaned his pleasure onto the incredible cock in his mouth and continued to move, slowly and carefully savoring the experience. 

The moan is what finally did it. The sound reverberated down the length of him, and Dean’s body tightened. 

“Cas!” He gasped, then held his breath. “Cas. Cas. Castiel!” His cock throbbed and his body released. The orgasm shook through him like an earthquake, knocking things loose and rearranging furniture. Dean gasped again, trying to get oxygen, air, life, back into his lungs. He shot a stream of seed into Cas’ willing mouth, his dick pulsing over and over again with overwhelming pleasure. The angel held on. One hand gripped Dean’s hip as he rocked with the waves of climax. The other kept ahold of his beloved’s hand, fingers wrapped around each other as though clinging to reality. He waited until the spasms stopped, watching the pulsing of a vein on the hunter’s pelvis. He glanced up and saw the tension start to leave Dean’s jaw, though his head was still thrown back and pressed hard against the pillows. 

Cas smiled and swallowed, removing himself from Dean’s still-hard phallus slowly. There was a barely-audible pop as his lips released the sensitive head, and Dean jumped. He managed to get his free hand onto Cas’ shoulder, and half pulled, half begged the angel to join him on the pillow. He complied happily, propping himself up on an elbow to look down at the Winchester. Dean’s chest was rising and falling rapidly. Cas brought their joined hands up and rested them on the hunter’s torso. He was always beautiful, but he was glorious in the afterglow of good sex. The sheen of sweat across his face made his freckles stand out against the flush of his skin. 

Cas leaned down and placed a kiss on the corner of Dean’s mouth. The hunter smiled with his eyes still closed. He turned his head and accepted another kiss, tasting himself on the angel’s tongue. The smile held as he kissed Cas again, reveling in the familiarity of something that seemed impossible, just a few days ago.

“You’re perfect.” He said to the angel, pressing his forehead against Castiel’s. 

Cas may have blushed. But he was still too close to the hunter’s face for confirmation. “I am not perfect, but I appreciate that you think so.”

“Well, you’re perfect for me.” Dean’s eyes fluttered. His breathing was almost back to normal, but it wasn’t there yet. 

“That may be true.” Cas nodded a little, reveling in the affection. “I sincerely hope it is.”  
He nuzzled against the hunter’s neck and settled into the pillow. Cas breathed in the scent of Dean Winchester; spicy and sweet and wonderful. 

Dean dropped a loving kiss on his forehead. He was tired now, and more relaxed than he’d been in months, but he was determined not to be that guy. 

“So, what do you like?” He asked, trying to open his eyes, eager to repay the favor.

“I love the way you say my name.” Cas threw a leg over Dean’s. He enjoyed the skin-to-skin contact, and sighed with contentment. “My full name.”

“Castiel?” Dean was losing the battle. He pressed his cheek against Cas’ hair, smelling the familiar sweat and some new shampoo. 

“Yes. Not always. But in moments like that, I love the way it sounds on your voice.” And in your heart, he finished silently. 

“Well, I love you, Castiel.” Dean breathing evened. He wrapped an arm around the angel and pulled him close. He’d just rest his eyes, and then they’d get to round two. 

“I love you too, Dean Winchester.” Castiel reached down toward the foot of the bed carefully and pulled a decorative blanket over them. They were still on top of the comforter, but there was no way he was going to wake Dean right now. 

 

~~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, Cas will get his soon!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean fell asleep right after the "good stuff" last night. He's determined to make it up to Cas this morning, even if that means being late to brunch...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been forever since I added to this story.  
> This chapter has been in my head in various stages for months. I finally got it all on "paper", and I am so eager to post it that I did hardly any revising since it's almost 2 in the morning.  
> Please leave comments with any errors spotted and I'll fix them asap.  
> As always, comments and kudos fill my heart with joy.  
> I hope this messy, emotional, smutty chapter is to you liking.  
> Thank you so much for reading <3

As an angel, Cas did not need to sleep, but he was happy to lie next to Dean throughout the night. He watched the hunter’s face as various expressions gave hints of the dreams behind his eyes. Some were clearly upsetting, and Cas leaned down to whisper sweet things to his beloved when he felt Dean twitch and jerk in his sleep. They passed the hours like that, Castiel watching as Dean slept more deeply than he had in months. And for longer too. 

Sometime after sunrise, bladder and stomach joined forces to wake Dean from his little coma. He shifted, wondering at the resistance at his side, until his arm identified the shape as another human body. The hunter opened his eyes slowly, blinking at the sunlight pouring in the large window. He’d woken up next to someone in a strange place plenty of times, but never a room as nice as this, and never with such a specific piece of anatomy pressed up against his thigh. Awareness of who was pressed up against him, and what they’d done last night, slammed into his consciousness. Holy shit. Dean was awake now. 

“G’morning.” The hunter cleared his throat. His free hand reached up and dug the sleep from his eyes. 

“Good morning, Dean.” Castiel tilted his chin up and smiled. “You slept for several hours longer than usual. I believe we’ve missed breakfast, but there is a brunch buffet starting soon.” 

He’d been awake for 12 seconds and Cas was already trying to feed him. Dammit, he really was an angel. Dean groaned happily and pressed a kiss against Castiel’s forehead. 

“Perfect.” He had a thought. “Let’s freshen up, eh? I bet my morning breath could choke a demon.” 

Castile smiled again and rolled back so Dean could retrieve his arm. The hunter stretched languidly and stood slowly. He looked down at the bed, still made, just rather rumpled. Embarrassment rolled through the hunter as he realized he had in fact been “that guy” last night. Even though his love life had consisted of mostly one night stands, he still took pride in being a caring and reciprocal lover, or at least a decent lay. He groaned and stretched; his muscles not used to sharing a bed with another person. A shower, food, and reciprocation… Dean’s head tilted with another thought. All those things would be accomplished, but not necessarily in that order.

He stood and stretched again, aware of Cas’ eyes on his naked body. Huh. They were both very naked. Normally, the morning after, he pulled on jeans and a T-shirt as soon as the covers were pulled back. All of his scars and the anti-possession tattoo raised too many questions, and he was not about to tell every waitress and bridesmaid from here to Tampa about his day job. Er, day and night job. Dean shook his head a little bit as a smile settled onto his face. It was oddly liberating to be here, naked, in front of someone he’d slept with, and not have to feel rushed to hide himself. In fact, unless he wasn’t mistaken, that was downright admiration in Cas’ eyes. Dean knew he was conventionally good looking, but limbs marked like his usually turned away plenty of folks, and those who were turned on by scars were not always the kind of ladies he wanted to hook up with. There was freaky, and then there were the people who... well, too many of the kinky types had too much in common with some of his clients and targets. Best to avoid mixing business and pleasure. He’d learned that from being “Un Chico Malo…” Shit. Did sleeping with Cas count as mixing work and play? Eh, the vamp was dead. The case was over, and the room was paid for through the weekend, so fuck it. It was time to have some pleasure in his business. 

All this flew through Dean’s mind in under a minute, but it was plenty of time for Cas to enjoy the view. He reclined on the bed, resting on an elbow. He watched Dean’s eyes dart towards the bathroom. 

“Do you, uh…” 

“I attended to my vessel’s needs a short while ago.” 

“Great. Be right back.” Dean wasn’t sure what needs a vessel had, but it was a human body, and Cas did eat dinner in the banquet hall last night, so he was sure there were things that had to happen, and as much as he liked playing house, there were some things that were sacred. In a gross way. It was hard to come back from sharing a bathroom with a sex buddy too many times. 

The hunter stepped into the bathroom and took care of things that needed taking care of in the morning. He brushed his teeth and took a deep, minty fresh breath. He stepped over to the shower and turned the water on. He twisted the nozzle to just a hair below scalding and smiled as steam started to fill the small room. Too many road side motels with too little hot water made a near-boiling shower a rare and precious treat. Now, to make it even better. 

Dean opened the door, still smiling. “You, uh. You care to join me?”

Cas didn’t exactly jump off the bed, but he didn’t move entirely without urgency. “I would love to.” He was exactly sure what he was being asked to do, but he assumed it would be good. 

Dean’s smile deeped. He’d always loved to shower with his partner when he’d had the same partner for more than 12 hours… He stepped into the tile cubicle first, turning the water down ever so slightly, in case Cas didn’t want his skin melted off. He turned in time to see Cas stepping into the white tub, goose pimples budding across his pale skin. Dean leaned back, soaking his hair and letting the water run down his face. Any trace of sleepiness was gone when he straightened his neck and saw the look in Cas’ eyes. 

The angel knew that the halo around Dean’s head was just a trick of the light and the mist from the steam, but he’d be Damned, with a capital D, if the hunter didn’t look downright mystical like this. Warm and happy and relaxed, and like maybe some kind of weight had been lifted off of his shoulders… off of his soul. 

“Dean.” Cas breathed his beloved’s name. He took a step closer, letting the heat envelop him, though he wasn’t sure if it was from the water or Dean himself.

“Yea, Cas.” Dean felt it too. “Yea.” He leaned down and kissed his angel, a hand wrapped around the slightly shorter man’s jaw. He pulled Cas closer, and water pooled in the valley made by their chests pressing against each other. Dean ran his hands down Cas’ sides, lingering once he reached the hard rounds of his buttocks. He wasn’t sure if it was mojo or not, but Cas did seem to take good care of his vessel. The glorious muscles under Dean’s hands were cold to the touch, so Dean slowly waltzed them around until Cas was under the water’s stream. The angel broke their kiss with a little gasp when the hot water hit his back. 

“Too hot?” Dean asked.

“No.” Cas smiled. This was not too hot at all. This was better than the Pizza Man movies, because this had feelings. He had feelings. Cas decided he liked being there when Dean woke up in the morning. It appeared Dean liked it as well, because his phallus had started to harden, and Cas’ own member was quickly catching up. 

Dean looked down at the sword fight getting started between them. He chuckled at the new experience. He was glad last night had gone so well, had seemed so easy. Well, it had been easy for him, so to speak. He’d just had to focus on not ending the show early, while this angel from Heaven did all the hard work of making his eyes cross and his toes curl. He was sure it wouldn’t always be that easy. There would definitely be things to figure out. Would they get to “real” sex? Dean’s brow furrowed at his own thoughts. What was “real” sex anyways? This was pretty damn real. His hand traveled lower, gently caressing their warring cocks. Would they be ready to try more this weekend? Would they have to make time to be alone on the road? What would they tell Sammy? Would they need to hide this relationship? Was it even a relationship? 

Dean took a deep breath. It shuddered through his lungs a bit, but he thought he did a good job of hiding it by pressing his chin to Cas’ hair and leaning into the water. There would be time for all those questions to be answered in the future. He wasn’t going to find answers in the shower, so no reason to ruin a damn near perfect morning with so much stupid worrying. Back to the task at hand, Winchester. Hand. Right. His hand was remarkably full, what with the two dicks and all. 

Dean looked down and smiled. Cas’ head was pressed against his shoulder, and if the angel had noticed his momentary crisis, well, he was far too busy moaning to say much about it. Dean decided to put a little more effort into his machinations. He added a little twist of the wrist that felt pretty amazing to him, and put the angel into shivers. Dean’s free hand came up and wrapped around the back of Cas’ neck. He was surprised how much he loved the feeling of the hard muscle feeling his palm. The short hair was kind of nice too - much less fuss and tangle. Maybe dating a guy would have it’s perks?

He pressed a kiss on Cas’ temple, and the angel raised his head. The shorter man smiled with his eyes closed, clearly lost in a delicious revelry. 

“Cas?”  
“Mmm.” 

“I’m kinda making this up as I go.” Another kiss, this time on the angel’s close left eye. “So you just let me know,” another one on the right eye, “if I do anything,” another kiss on his forehead, ”that you don’t like.” A final punctuating kiss, on Cas’ slightly open mouth. Dean’s hand hadn’t stopped moving. He alternated between gentle twists, clenching his palm, and opening his fingers to allow water to trickle over them in a way that tickled beautifully. 

Cas just nodded, some kind of reply getting caught in his throat as Dean abandoned his own cock to wrap his fingers full around the angel’s member. He groaned and dropped his head back, water pouring over his face. 

Dean felt pretty damn proud of himself at that moment. Not bad for a first try, eh? Well, he had one more thing to try, and he hoped he’d have even more success with that. Without losing his grip, Dean took a half step back. He knelt, careful on the slippery floor of the ceramic tub. Once he felt secure, his left hand reached up and wrapped around Cas’ slender hip. 

The angel’s eyes flashed open and his head jerked forward with a kind of hazy speed. He panted softly, chest rising and falling rapidly as he took in the sight of Dean Winchester on his knees before him. Cas didn’t know what to do with his hands. One reached up to hold the shower rail, steadying himself for what he assumed was to come. The other landed on the Dean’s hand on his hip, wrapping his thumb around his beloved’s strong fingers. 

“Yes.” He wasn’t entire sure he said that out loud, but as far as improvising went, Cas was more than pleased to see where Dean’s creativity would take them, today and every day.

Dean smiled. He’s barely heard the whispered word over the rush of the water, and the pounding in his own ears, but he had heard it, at it made his heart, and to be honest, his cock, flutter with excitement. 

He leaned forward, slowing his hand as he considered how best to begin this next phase. He knew water wasn’t the best lubricant, so to buy himself a little time, he pulled away his hand, licked it, and the resumed his leisurely stroking. 

Cas’ moan deepened. It rumbled from somewhere in his chest now instead of just his throat. Dean wondered if he might get his angel to growl someday. Wouldn’t that be something. He glanced up, but the angel’s eyes were screwed shut. Dean knew the feeling. He decided if he Cas enjoyed himself half as much as Dean did last night then they were off to a good start. He took deep breath and closed the distance between them. 

A few tentative licks got him used to the idea of a dick in his mouth. To his pleasant surprise, Cas tasted a little musky and just a bit salty. He lapped at the angel again, his hand still wrapped around the base of his cock, palm flattening against the dark curls there. Dean retreated, licked his lips, and came forward again, taking the first few inches of Cas into his mouth. He heard Cas’ gasp of pleasure, felt the twitch in his buttocks, and saw the shiver in his muscles. Dean smiled and slid down farther, feeling the weight on his tongue and the gentle stretch in his lips. Old muscles took on new shapes as Dean sucked, pulled, and worked on the beautiful cock before him. 

Cas had been to Heaven. Multiple Heavens. Lots and lots of Heavens existed, and in this moment, Cas did not understand why every single man who’d ever experienced this feeling, did not exist in this moment for eternity. He felt the warm heat surround him, pulling him deeper into ecstasy. His legs trembled. His hand left his hip and moved to the soap dish, holding on to a lower center of gravity like it would be his salvation. He needed to touch Dean though. He couldn’t just let this happen to him… He need to be connected to his beloved. Cas brought his other hand down and rested it on the hunter’s head. He carded his fingers through the wet hair and wrapped his palm around the back of Dean’s skull, just above his neck. His hips moved of their own free will, seeking more. More depth, more heat, more more more pleasure as he careened towards that edge.

Dean’s eyes flashed open when Cas’ hand landed on his head. He leaned into the angel’s touch, only losing his rhythm for a second or two. The hand that had been on Cas’ hip rolled around to grip his ass, and the other hand soon mirrored it. He felt the gentle thrusts, felt the tension and the urgency as Cas worked with him, clearly trying not to overwhelm him, but was getting closer and closer to the promised land. Dean met his urgency, reveling in the response he could elicit from his lover. He’d been party to exchanges in the shower plenty of times, but the feeling of Cas’ hand on his head, the almost un-gentle urging of his hips, and the desperate whispers falling from the angel’s lips had Dean more aroused than he’d been in longer than he could remember. Yet he was oddly unconcerned with his own pleasure. It was all about Cas at the moment, and Dean wanted him to know it. 

Well, he was on his knees, so why not pray? Dean clenched his fingers, closed his eyes, and relaxed his jaw. He moaned with, taking as much of of Cas as he could into his mouth, eager to please. A wordless prayer formed in his mind, urging the angel on, reassuring him that he could take it, that he wanted it, wanted this, wanted him. 

Cas’ eyes shot open. He hurled an Enochian curse against the walls of the shower as he came, sudden and hard. A foot slid back, bracing him against the wall as rapture pumped through him. He curled forward, chest heaving and muscles clenching as he fought to stay upright and not collapse on top of the hunter. His hands moved to Dean’s shoulders, holding him tight to anchor his body to ground and his mind to this moment. Heaven came only after death. That’s why the French called this le petit morte, the little death. Yep. Heaven had a new meaning. It was hearing his beloved’s voice in his mind, while those beloved lips were wrapped around his cock. 

Dean swallowed, another “first” in a life of many experiences. His hands held the angel as best he could. He wondered if he’d have to catch him, and if that would even be possible, what with their bodies slick from the slightly less steaming shower. How long had they been in here? Dean ran his hands up Cas’ sides. His knees were sore, but he wouldn’t rush the angel in his recovery. Hell, Cas had effectively knocked him out last night, and it seemed as though Dean’s rookie skills we comparable to his lover’s. 

After a few more very intentional and very deep breaths, Cas straightened and pulled himself back to standing on his own two feet. He stepped back, giving Dean room to rise. He rotated them again, putting the hunter in the water’s path as he continued to wait for his vessel’s heart rate to subside.

“So, not bad, eh?” Dean was feeling more than a little proud of himself.

Cas eyes opened in narrow slits. “Not bad at all, Dean.” He placed a hand on the tile wall, not quite trusting his legs yet. 

Dean chuckled. He reached for the comically small bottle of body wash and poured some into his big hands. He ran his hands over Cas, reveling in touching him while residual shivers of pleasure occasionally shook the angel. Cas seemed somehow more steady and yet still more relaxed under the hunter’s attention. The rotated yet again, Dean using a washcloth to make sure all the soap was cleansed from the other man’s body. 

At some point, Cas had taken to resting a hand or both on Dean in order to provide for ease of reach, and also probably to keep himself steady. During one of these repositionings, Cas looked down to see Dean was still profoundly, perhaps even painfull aroused. 

“Dean.” He trailed a fingertip down the hunter’s length. 

“Mmm.” The human replied, resting his head against Cas’. “No worries, man. I owe you from last night.” He felt the angel’s head shake under his. 

“That’s not…” Cas paused. “You must be starving, and I imagine it will be uncomfortable to visit the buffet with this.” This time he trailed a few fingertips along the underside. 

Dean hadn’t realized just how hard he still was. Cas was right. Blue balls would suck while he was trying to enjoy some waffles, and maybe even another piece or 3 of pie. 

“Well, um. Yea.” He choked out. Cas’ hand was still moving with slow and gentle touches, but they were doing their magic. It was even more magical when watched Cas bring those fingers to him lips, give them a healthy dose of saliva, and then send them right back to work on his cock.   
Dean hummed his appreciation and closed his eyes. This would not take long… His eyes opened when Cas’ hand landed on his a moment later. The angel guided him until they both had a hand stroking his prick, fingers entwined as they moved in messy circles of pleasure.

“Could I watch you?” Cas’ voice was thick. He was surprised how aroused he still was, even as his cock hung, limp and satisfied. 

“What?” Dean blinked, at once confused, and if possible, even more turned on. 

“I’d like to watch you. How you do it.” Cas released his grip, allowing Dean free reign of his member. 

Dean looked down. Now this was a familiar scene. He was a adept at, ahem, loving himself. But he rarely an audience for the event. He looked at Cas, saw the lust and love in those too blue eyes, and knew this was something special. This wasn’t just a kink, or a dirty request to try to please him. No, Cas wanted to watch Dean’s pleasure for the sheer joy of it, and to see his beloved pleased. Dean upended a dollop of soap into his palm, and began with a few luscious strokes. He watched Cas’ eyes dilate even further, saw the fingers clench in sympathy, saw the spent but beautiful cock give a halfhearted twitch of support.

“Not gonna. Take long.” Dean gasped. Feeling like a teenager again, eager and sloppy and exhilarated. He worked himself into a lather, over and under, paying attention to the sensitive head, and even giving his balls a few appreciative fondles. His chestnut pubic hair was matted down with water a soap. He was close. He thought about last night, about the long slow foreplay, the laughter and smiles, their intertwined fingers, and the moment Cas’ mouth closed around his straining cock. 

Dean heard a small noise, an involuntary gasp as Cas watched, eyes fixed to Dean’s rapidly pumping hand. The water poured over his shoulders, washing away the soap, until the freckled and scarred skin, stroking and working the soft unmarked phallus was all Cas could see. Dean saw the angel lick his lips, and he was done. The hunter clenched his jaw, swallowed a name, and came in a long, satisfying stream that landed proudly on Cas’ leg. 

Even as he rode the waves of orgasm, reveling in the overwhelming endorphins and intense relief, embarrassment jumped through him. Shit. Cas had asked to watch him come, not to have him come on him. Shit. Dean panted, trying to catch his breath, trying to find the words to apologize. Should he get a towel? More soap? What should he… Panicked planning stopped when he saw Cas’ face. The angel was… smiling? Was he… laughing?

Sure enough, joyful laughed bubbled up in gentle waves from Castiel’s throat. He closed the distance between them, pride and love and joy shining in his mountain-lake eyes.

“Dean Winchester, I am grateful that I can finally tell you how beautiful you are.” Cas pressed his lips against the hunter’s stunned expression. It only took a moment for Dean to kiss him back, though he still didn’t understand fully what was happening. Amidst a few more minutes of laughter, kisses, and rapidly cooling water, both men managed to get the last bits of soap and love off of their bodies. The stepped from the shower and Cas handed Dean a large fluffy towel.   
Dean took it, and smiled in a way that made Cas pause, tilting his head.

“What?” the angel asked. He was working the towel over his arms, but stopped to look at his lover.

“You, man.” 

“Me?”

“Yea.” Dean laughed, pulling the angel to him for kiss. “You are a fucking blessing.”


End file.
